


scandal is rising...

by mathonwys



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar, Palanauts
Genre: Gen, Mistaken Identity, fallen london AU, no beta we die like leonaut, some good ol' shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathonwys/pseuds/mathonwys
Summary: “‘Man Starts A Riot At Mahogany Hall’,” he read. “‘Trouble erupted at Mahogany Hall on Thursday after a Veilgarden resident trashed the set and threatened arson….’” He lowered the paper to stare blankly at Jordan. “Well, that sucks?”-The Palanauts are trying to mind their own business in Fallen London. It's not working out too well, seeing as one of them got his identity stolen and another now has an evil doppelganger.
Kudos: 6





	scandal is rising...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jorb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jorb/gifts).



> YES this is a crossover with the minecraft lp im part of YES this is for zain and solar's fallen london au YES we exist
> 
> i blame/credit the 77-2 discord for this.

The orange-haired man sighed as he ran a hand through his messy bangs. Right, that was enough pouring over notes for the day; any more of this and he was gonna implode. Coffee time.

He didn’t bother wearing university robes, even though he really should while on campus, but in his defense he was forgetful enough to just… not change. As a result, he got a few strange looks as he stumbled out of the lab and meandered away. Eh, that’s their problem, not his. At least he hadn’t set anything on fire this time; working with the Correspondence was loaded with consequences, most of them requiring the fire department. The last thing he wanted was to get kicked out  _ again _ because things got out of hand and Summerset had a problem with it.

The walk to his favourite coffee shop in Veilgarden wasn’t too far from the university. Not Caligula’s, although he did stop by there if he was especially desperate. No, some smart businessman had set up a cafe near campus for occasions like this, where exhausted students and lecturers alike desperately needed a pick-me-up (regardless of how shitty). The barista nodded as soon as he trudged into the cafe; he managed a lazy wave before he stumbled over to his usual seat and faceplanted on the table.

“That bad?”

He jolted up, the movement so sudden that his goggles fell down crooked over his eyes. He pushed them back up on his forehead with a scowl, then brightened as he saw who he was sitting across from. “Jorb!” He beamed at the sight of the taller, bearded man. After a moment, he tilted his head to one side. “...I thought you didn’t like coffee?”

“I don’t,” Jordan said with a mild shrug. “But you’re here all the time, and I gotta talk to you about something.” The redhead scanned his expression for any clues; his partner was often an open book, and it was never a good sign to see him looking so concerned. Boy howdy.

He sank down into his seat. The waiter, oblivious to the mood, set down a mug of crappy diner coffee in front of him along with a plate of equally crappy biscuits before strolling off to deal with other patrons. He kept his eyes on his coffee as Jordan examined a biscuit with a dubious look. “Somethin’ wrong with the dig?” he asked, nervous. “I mean, there was that one time some guy rolled up pretendin’ to be Michael and I wrestled him into a ditch, but—“

Jordan held up a hand to stop him. “No, it’s uh. Something else?” He raised an eyebrow. Jordan put his hand on a newspaper that he’d overlooked and slid it over to him; feeling even more worried, if that was possible, he picked it up and held it close to his face as he squinted at the text.

“‘Man Starts A Riot At Mahogany Hall’,” he read. “‘Trouble erupted at Mahogany Hall on Thursday after a Veilgarden resident trashed the set and threatened arson….’” He lowered the paper to stare blankly at Jordan. “Well, that sucks?”

“There’s more to it,” Jordan pointed out. Uneasy, he continued reading. The rabble-rouser had managed to piss off the stage crew so much with his shenanigans that he’d nearly been arrested and exiled to the Tomb-Colonies, but had evaded capture and was now loose on London. There was also theorizing that he was connected to the Flit fires, but no conclusive evidence.

“I don’t get what this has to do with us,” he said, eyebrows pinched together. “I mean, I don’t keep up with the news any, but—?”

Jordan took the paper away from him, cleared his throat, and began to read one of the parts he’d skimmed over. “‘Citizens of London are encouraged to look out for a heavyset man about 160 cm tall with orange hair, a blue bandana, and goggles. If anyone sees this man, report him to the Constables immediately.’” Point made, he folded the newspaper up and set it aside again. “That… sounds like you, Leo.”

Leo blanched.

“What?! No! I ain’t even been to Mahogany Hall in ages, I’ve been busy at the dig and at the lab!” Leo protested. His coffee cup jittered and spilled a bit of its contents as he slammed his hands down on the table. Aware that he was now drawing attention to himself, he sank back down in his chair and raised the cup to his lips. Yep, bad as always. “I mean, yeah, it  _ sounds _ like something I’d get up to, but. You trust me, right? Y’know me?”

“I trust you, I trust you,” Jordan reassured him. He reached out and patted Leo’s arm, and the redhead gave him a grateful look. “But it  _ might _ be a good idea to not do stuff for a while. You know, just in case.”

“And you tell me that in a public place,” Leo grumbled before taking another swig of his coffee, biscuits forgotten.

Jordan at least had the decency to look ashamed. “It’s the fastest way to talk to you! They won’t let me on campus after last time, and you don’t check your mail.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Leo waved his mug around. “Okay, so… What? I just stay at the dig until people forget about my evil doppelganger? Steal Michael’s boat that he’s probably sold by now?”

“I don’t think he’s sold it,” Jordan corrected him. Leo grunted and started chewing on the rim of his mug. “Maybe…” Jordan tapped his chin as he looked up, thinking. “What if you changed your outfit? They’re looking for someone with goggles and a bandana—“

“Jorb. How many people do you know in London that’re embarrassingly short and have fluorescent orange hair.”

“...More than one?” Jordan said, somewhere between helpful and hopeful. “I mean, there’s you and the criminal, that’s two! So there’s… probably more? Maybe?” Leo didn’t look impressed by his reasoning. “I’m trying to help!”

Leo rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I know, I know… Sorry, Jorb.” He exhaled hard. His coffee cup clinked as he set it back down, then wobbled a bit as he faceplanted next to it. Jordan reached out to steady his mug before it could spill. “Frickin’... Ughhh. Why did I even  _ come _ here? Everything blows! At least Michael’s havin’ a good time with the railway, I  _ guess _ .”

Jordan ruffled Leo’s hair. Leo sighed. “Well, it can’t get any worse,” Jordan suggested. Leo smacked his arm without looking up. “Ow! Hey!”

“Please no,” Leo mumbled into the table. “My karma’s bad enough.”


End file.
